


Scientific Name For Crushes

by sirnando



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:43:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirnando/pseuds/sirnando
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where James is a RM physio and Cristiano feels like testing him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of 3

James was a good person. Or at least he considered himself one. No he never donated immense amounts of money to children's organizations. No he never flew to different countries to help the less fortunate. And it wasn't because he didn't want to, nor that he wouldn't be qualified, but the problem was that his income wasn't exactly the best thing in the world.  
Otherwise James was a good person. He didn't spit on the ground, didn't throw his wrappers out his window, thanked the mailman for bringing the mail, while being fully aware that he had no other choice.  
So when he got a position as physio at Real Madrid, he was positive it was because he was a good person. Because he threw those extra cents into the bins with smiling kids who had cancer. Because he held the door open for 15 minutes for people. Because he collected the stray cans on the side of the street.  
And his parents claimed the same thing. Patted him on the back, told everyone that “he was our son”, invited the whole family for a farewell dinner. He was satisfied. Living proof nice guys didn’t finish last.  
~  
He wouldn’t admit it, but at first sight of the stadium he screamed a little. There was no one around, except for a girl who eyed him oddly, but who cared. He was here. He was going to be in Madrid and even if they paid him in shit he’d thank them and say they were too generous.  
“One of the best resumes we got.” They claimed. “Perfectly qualified.” “Thrilled you accepted.” And when he laughed at the last one, he wasn’t being rude. He was laughing at the possibility of him ever saying no to Real Madrid.

He didn't meet his patients until a week afterward. It was the end of July when he came, he still had some time before the season started, but the club decided it'd be only natural to have a welcoming meeting for him.

So they did. Him standing at the front of the room as a chorus of "Hi Dr. Rodriguez's" was shoved at him. It sounded sort of like the therapy sessions he watched on TV. He loved it.

Chief of medicine gave him all the players' records. Allergies, previous history, what they're prone too, what they like and what they don't. 22 names printed on the top. Which was off actually, because he could've sworn last time he checked the roster he scanned his eyes over 23.

"Is someone missing here?" The guy shrugged. "That's all I have."

Not exactly stellar organization that they had here, coated with indifference, but it was fine. He didn't stop smiling even when his face was borderline numb.

~

As for comparison; there was no comparison. His previous office was nothing if you placed it next to this one. New desks, stacks of paper, two whole bags of new blue and black pens (to which he squealed when he saw because pens were his number one obsession). 

The equipment shined and you didn't have to kick the scale for it to work. He wondered how a shabby kid like him actually got chosen for this job. His mom must've used bribery.

~

Then the week of meeting the players came. They shuffled in one by one. He took their temperature, weight, checked their eyes and their heart, asked for any muscle strain they felt, basic things.

Some of them talked, some of them smiled, others said nothing and he probed their body in awkward silence.

Marcelo became his favorite. He brought cookies, said he knew they were bad but his wife insisted bringing some was necessary. He was the talkative one and James knew more about Marcelo's extended family than he did about his.

Isco was the laughing one. Laughed whenever James touched him anywhere, laughed at whatever James said even when it was 'open your mouth'. Laughed after every time he answered. 

There was nothing on his record that specified insanity, but James didn't mind it in the end. It made him laugh too.

Toni was the smiling one. Nodded and smiled. Nodded and smiled. Not as talkative as Marcelo, though he spoke more than Isco. Quiet, timid, James was sometimes afraid he'd hurt him in some way. But Toni just smiled and shook his head no when he asked 'does this hurt'. James could imagine him smiling through pain.

The others were nice too, Sergio talked too and had a shirt with horses on which he claimed he sewed himself. James had to ask Bale to tie his hair back cause it kept getting in the way. Luka needed a stool to get on the table. Everyone was unique.

And then Cristiano came.

~

Cristiano Ronaldo was the type of guy who spit on the ground and threw two wrappers out the window at once and complained to the mailman that he came too early. 

He walked in, slammed himself down into James' chair, held out crumpled up papers.

"What's this?" James asked, took them from him. 

"My record. Thought I'd hand it to you personally to make it more - " he thought hard, "personal."

"The chief thought it was in the pile you know."

"Chief thinks a lot of things are places where they aren't. I can't change that." He smiled slyly and got up. "So do I take my pants off now...?" He started undoing them, James grabbed his hand. 

"No, no. I don't need that yet. Not today I mean. Just, get on the table."

Cristiano raised his eyebrows. "I have a girlfriend you know."

James was confused. Then he wasn't and he shook his hands frantically. "No no no. I meant sit on it I need to - "

"Do you prefer Doc or Doc-tor."

"I mean I - "

"Great, Doc." And he walked out. 

James couldn't find him, but he found Marcelo.

"So what am I supposed to put on the record?"

"That everything's fine. He likes to be his own physio."

~

He missed the next meeting. James wrote down ABSENT, he wasn't going to lie on the paper and then get thrown out.

He did ask Isco though, the next time they saw one another, if this was normal. 

"Well the last physio quit because of compatibility issues so you can guess."

"What the hell did he do?"

"Hey - I don't know ok, just remember, I'm the stupid laughing one I don't know anything. But - " he leaned in closely, lips almost brushing James' ear, "he hired his own."

James pulled back. "Did he suck that bad?"

"She. And no, I liked her. She was really great. Of course no offense but her massages were the highlight of my day."

"None taken." James answered, scribbled something onto his paper and let Isco go.

He turned before leaving, "Basically, what I'm saying is that don't feel personally victimized if he's a dick to you."

"I won't." But he was already irritated.

~

He missed the next one too. Two days before their opening game. So James decided to track him down, because this wasn't going to be blamed onto him. 

Cristiano was in the gym. James walked over politely. "You missed your session."

"Did I?" He didn't bother taking his eyes off what he was doing. James warmed up.

"Yeah, you did. And it's pretty vital that you come since your game is so soon."

"I already massaged myself, Doc. Don't worry your pretty head."

James was taken aback. Both by 'myself' and 'pretty'. "Look, you may not like it but it's my job and I intend to do it. So come tomorrow."

"Maybe."

It was starting to get difficult to be nice, so he walked away. 'Maybe' was better than nothing.

Cris eyed him as he did.

~

In a way, he wasn't surprised when Cris didn't come. He waited twenty minutes after the set time for him, but no sign. James sighed. 

The game was tomorrow, and even the slightest pull would be seen as a failure. He bit his nails, there was barely anything to bite but he symbolically chewed at his fingers.

~

Ironically, Cris bumped into him as he was leaving.

"Where were you?" James asked as he was locking the door. No way he was going to proceed now, let him feel pain.

"I lost my way." He claimed. James frowned. 

"There's three hallways."

"I thought there were four, but I just remembered there wasn't."

He walked away before James had time to rebut. 

~

He had thirty minutes before the match started to hunt him down again. In the locker room, tying his shoes and then retying and untying and starting over again.

"Your next session is Monday. Here's the time, date and place. Printed you a map too so now you have no excuses." James shoved it into his hand, stalked off before he or anyone else for that matter could say anything.

All he heard was Isco laughing, which he didn't know was at him or just natural.

~

\- Slight strain in the left calf - was what Cristiano's post-game notes said. James sighed. 

"I'll get right on it." He assured Rafa. Got stared at a little harshly, but he would get on it. Right away.

Cristiano was retying his shoes again. James stormed in. 

"Pick your leg up." He ordered. Cristiano took his time to respond.

"Your left one."

More time.

James grabbed with one hand, fingers of the other sliding across his calf muscle. Cristiano stared at his hair.

"I feel fine."

"Well your calf is tight as f- heck. Did you even massage this out yet?"

"Yes." Cris spat. James let his leg drop.

"Where's you paper?" He asked, Cristiano pulled a crumpled ball from his bag, waved it around in James' face.

James nodded curtly, left without another word. Toni was smiling.

~

He came. He came in jeans and a long sleeve shirt, but he came. 

"Happy?" He asked, leaning against the door frame. James looked up in surprise from his papers.

"Content." He corrected and got up, motioned to the table.

"What?"

"Lay down." He did.

James examined him for a second, Cristiano shifted. "Why are yo-"

"Take your pants off." 

"What?"

"Take them off. I can't examine through jeans."

"I don't want to."

"You were eager the first day, what difference does this make."

"Not in the mood."

"Take them off."

"No."

"Take the-"

"Fuck off." And he walked out.

Well at least he came. James never did specify he had to stay for long.

~

"Did he come?" Marcelo asked at his appointment.

"Yep."

"No way!"

"Yep.

"And?"

"And nothing, told him to take his pants off cause he had jeans on and he said fuck off and it ended."

"Pride issues." Marcelo mumbled, James raised his eyebrows.

"Pride issues?"

"Yeah, man. I mean, Doctor. Not the only one who tried convincing him to come and he never listened. That he did to you is surprising, but it must've hurt his fragile pride: actually listening but not going on your own terms."

James shrugged, motioned for Marcelo to get up. "Well it's my job to keep him in form and a fragile pride doesn't affect his playing ability."

"You'd be surprised." James didn't feel like asking for elaboration.

~

They crossed paths a few times after that. James didn't offer any invitations to his office, Cristiano didn't ask if he had permission to come over. Although he did shoot some stares at him.

He played another game with the slightly strained left thigh and then another one but James never got any new notes or weird looks from Rafa. Cris didn't score but he didn't complain either.

Until the fourth game when the magazines got hooked on polls as to why people thought Cris wasn't scoring. 

He appeared on time for the slot his name was in. Or was supposed to be in anyways, James had given up on writing it there.

"I never got treatment for my left calf muscle."

"You never asked for it." He was equally bitter.

"You're my physio, aren't you?"

"Heard that you were you're own physio."

Cristiano sighed, sat down as lightly as possible on the table. "I am like a machine. When something is broken, I don't score goals. When I don't score goals, I self destruct. Do you want to watch me implode and take the blame for it or do you want to fix what's broken?"

James returned to his pens. "Depends on the way you act."

"It's your job to fix me."

"Come regularly and I'll try."

"Fine." He jumped off, winced.

"Aren't we going to start?"

"No, we start tomorrow. I need time to wallow in my sorrows."

He left. James sighed harder.

~

"You've done God's work." Marcelo commented, rolled his sleeves back down. "Now I'm technically not allowed to do this but I recommend Advil for the headaches you're bound to get."

"I'll be fine." James gave him the note about his next visit. "He asked for it, I didn't do anything. His own fault that he didn't come to me before."

"God." Marcelo insisted and James did feel a little like one.

~ 

He came the next time, jeans still on but at least his shirt was short sleeved.

"If I'm to cure you, you're pants have to be off." Cristiano smiled, the first time James had ever seen it actually.

"You're really keen on having me take my pants off."

"It's procedure." He explained, but Cristiano kept smirking.

~

James sat at his desk as he did it. Finished up the other work he had to fill out, but he got the feeling that Cristiano remained staring at him.

"Are you done?" He asked when Cristiano seemed to stop moving.

"Yep. Left calf muscle." He sat down, bent his leg at the knee and waited for James. 

James grabbed it again, Cristiano shivered slightly and laughed. "What?" 

"Your fingers are cold."

"No they're not."

Cristiano touched them. "Oh yeah," he shrugged. James returned to his previous task.

"Are you even a good physio?" He asked while James wrote notes.

"Well they chose me for this job."

"Doesn't mean your good. The last physio wa-"

"It seems like you're fine. I don't see any strains. Are you sure you didn't mistake it?"

Cristiano stared at him, his smile disappeared. "Do you think, I would lie, about this?"

"You've done other things before so who knows."

He stared longer. "I didn't lie." He grabbed his pants, started pulling them up.

"I'm not accusing you of anything but I can't feel - "

"Forget it."

And he left.

~

James thought it'd be over, that's where their sessions ended because he'd pissed Cristiano off, but he returned the following day. Pants already half way down.

"I don't need your pants off today."

Cristiano shrugged. "I think my arm hurts."

James turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Arm?"

"Yeah, you should probably check it."

James squinted, but pulled his sleeve up nonetheless. "You know you're very bipolar." He commented as his palms enveloped Cristiano's bicep. Cris tensed. 

"Really? I was trying to be just like you."

"Bipolar? I'm not bipolar."

"Yeah you are. First you're all nice and quiet and then all of a sudden you're attacking me with paper balls and forcing me to take my pants off every single time we cross paths."

"You're bipolar. Not me."

"It's called being offended not bipolarism."

"Bipolarity." James corrected. "Telling me to fuck off isn't being offended."

"It is."

"It's not." 

Cristiano pulled his palms off. "I think you've had enough probing time." He stared straight into James' eyes and smiled. James smiled slightly back.

"I don't feel anything wrong."

"I know, I actually lied about that one."

He smiled again and hopped off and away.

~

"Well he sure as fuck didn't lie to the last one because he never came. I'm telling you - God."

"Not God." James assured. "Is he a people person?"

"Not really. You need to know him really really well for him to transform into one. Only Fabio can do that. Sometimes I get a joke from him but I get even the grumpiest people to tell a joke." Marcelo shrugged, took his paper. "Why, has he joked?"

"I don't really know."

~

"What do you have to lie about today?" James asked before Cris was fully in the room.

"My wrist." He pulled his hand out, James took it. 

"What about it?"

"I think I broke it. It twists in all directions."

James twisted it slightly, Cristiano yelled and pulled away.

"See?"

"That's normal."

"Oh." He examined it himself. Looked at the other one. "I guess it does." James smiled, Cristiano mirrored it.

"So you never did tell me if I should call you Doc or Doctor."

"Doctor." 

(Cristiano was hoping for James).

"Doctor James or Doctor Rodriguez?"

"How do you even know my name?"

"I read things sometimes."

James nodded. "Well either or. People usually call me James."

Cristiano waited for him to say something else, but it never came. He had nothing to say. James shifted. "Anything else you're having an issue with?"

"Nothing you can help with." And he left again.

~

They became the normal thing, him coming and making something up, James explaining why it was normal. Cris being surprised. It was more of a game then an actual visit.

He scored in the seventh game of the season.

"I scored." Was the first thing he said when he came in. James smiled. "I saw."

"Oh right, you sit on the sidelines."

"No choice."

"Did you like it?" 

"Sort of."

Cristiano stopped smiling, was taken aback. "Hey that's a dick answer. I tried hard for that."

"I've seen better."

"Like whose?"

"Messi had a gre-"

"Do not even start." James laughed, Cristiano smiled sideways.

~

"I pulled something."

The first time he had an actual issue since the calf.

"Where?"

"Ass muscle."

James stared at him. "Um, I can't check if you're kidding."

Cristiano presented him a note. -strain on gluteus muscle-

"Who wrote this?"

"Fitness coach."

"Pants." He motioned with his head, but Cristiano's hands were already working.

"You may want to turn around."

"Right."

And he did until Cristiano was laying face down on the table.

"Where exactly?" James asked, Cristiano pointed crookedly.

"Ok." And he took a deep breath, put his hands on Cristiano's lower back.

"Have you ever done this before?" Cristiano mumbled, James nodded then remembered he didn't see.

"Well yeah, they trained me in med school." His fingers trailed down, Cristiano got goosebumps.

"Why are you so tense then?" He asked. James was wondering why he had so many questions.

"I'm not."

"You are." James' fingers pressed into his skin, one palm spread holding his lower butt.

"Stop talking Cris."

"That's the first time you've ever said my name."

"Is it?"

"Yea- shit." He stiffened, James pulled away.

"What?"

"James,"

"What?"

"If your life is ever hard, I just want you to know that dicks are hard too but they aren't hard forever."

"What?"

"I don't know how else to tell you that my dick is hard right now but it's about to not be, so I suggest you turn around again."

He turned around, hands shaking, they didn't teach him this in med school, didn't tell him what standard procedure was when a patient claimed they had issues with their - their - male sex organ.

He turned around after counting to twenty.

Cris was gone and the sheet from the mat was too.


	2. Chapter 2

"Am I supposed to include that in the report?"

He knew that Isco wasn't qualified to know anything about that, but he was there at the moment and he had no else to ask.

"Um, no. I don't think 'developed a boner' is an issue nor is it something Rafa wants to hear about. Although who knows he cou-"

"I won't include it." He helped Isco get up, Isco pulled his shoes on.

"That's real weird if you ask me."

"What?"

"What do you mean what? What else have we talked about that's out of the ordinary. I've been here a long time with a lot of different physios, female, male, etc and I've never had one. Didn't hear about anyone getting one either."

"I was touching his gluteus."

"That doesn't make it better."

~

James didn't expect him to return. Or, he didn't have a choice but to return but Cristiano already had the tendency of skipping out, so he didn't expect him to return right away.

But he came.

"Well that was quite the experience last time, wasn't it, Doc." He asked James. James looked at him in surprise. He didn't expect him to be open about it either.

"Let's not mention it. You forgot your shoes." He motioned to the cabinet where they were leaned against.

"Forgot my clothes too." He looked at James to see his reaction. He got nothing special. James contained himself against his eyes.

"You know you were lucky."

"Why?"

"You'd be cleaning that up. I'm not touching your - your - stuff."

"You've never experienced anything like that before?"

"I don't think anyone has."

"Oh don't exaggerate, everyone's had a boner one time or another."

"I didn't mean tha-"

"I can show you how it feels like right now if you want."

James jerked his head towards him, eyes wide. "Wh-"

"I was kidding!" He raised his hands up in self defense. James turned back but his eyes didn't return to normal.

Cris dug his heel into the tile. He didn't have a specific reason to be here. James wasn't offering any conversation either.

"Do I have an appointment tomorrow?"

James just nodded. Cristiano took that as his cue to leave.

~

He came the next day, way before his time.

"Rafa wants you at training."

"Why?"

Cristiano shrugged, his shirt was sticking to his chest. James' eyes watered from the strain to not look down. It's not that he enjoyed it or whatever, it was just really - noticeable.

"Said he needs someone around to monitor us in case we fuck up during stretches."

"Ok." James grabbed his bag and followed

"You might need to keep an eye out for me." Cristiano warned while they walked. James jogged to catch up to him (he was falling behind even though he was out of breath).

"Why?"

"Just as a disclaimer."

And James didn't have a chance to ask for elaboration because they'd arrived.

~

"Walk around with me. Examine things. Do whatever it is you do." He wasn't very descriptive, but he wasn't about to ask Rafa what he meant by examine and monitor. They seemed to be fine before.

But he did. Walked around and did whatever it was Rafa expected him to be doing. He talked sometimes with the players, but decided to stop when Rafa started looking at him the second he opened his mouth. Didn't need those types of issues either.

He did keep an eye out for Cristiano as he was advised, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

It was about a half hour from ending when James decided there was literally no point in standing around looking at players who were perfectly fit. He'd just had visits with them yesterday, none of them complained.

"I think I'm gonna go. I have some work to do." He told Rafa, Rafa shrugged.

"Whatever."

He seemed pretty indifferent for someone who requested his help in the first place.

He was turned away from the field, on his way back when he heard Cristiano's voice.

"I don't know bro, I mean, sir. I don't know what my ankle thinks. It has a brain of its own. All I know is that it's sending me painful signals."

James stopped in his tracks. Waited for Rafa's command. It came inevitably. 'James-come-back-here', but James was already turning.

"Yeah?"

"His ankle is sending him signals." He looked at him for an explanation. James stared at him.

"So should I?"

"Well- do your - thing."

"Right. Come on. Unless you need a stretcher?" He asked Cristiano. The latter smiled.

"Nah, I think I'll make it."

~

"You get hurt quite often." James commented as Cristiano settled himself down. It was odd, for anyone, to be injured this often, or at least to be lying about it all the time.

"I'm an extremely fragile person." Cris assured and tucked his pants off, even though they were shorts.

"You didn't need to do that." James said, Cris smirked. 

"I was very hot."

"I can turn the air on."

Cristiano seemed stunned. James smiled lightly.

"So left or right or some other one this time?"

"Real funny. I didn't know you had it in you."

James ignored him, grabbed his left one.

"Trick situation," Cristiano grabbed James' wrist and pulled it off the ankle. "it's my right one today." He placed it gently down, James wrapped his fingers around it.

Their torsos were extremely close. James came to the same conclusion: it was extremely hot in here. He should've turned on the air.

He could feel Cristiano's eyes on him as he checked the ankle. His fingers had to be constantly wiped against his pants since Cris was still sufficiently sweaty.

"I don't see anything, as always." He ripped his hand away abruptly, Cristiano broke his gaze.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, pull your pants back on." He did. Resumed his seat on the table.

"Why do you keep faking injuries?" Cristiano shrugged lightly. James looked down.

They stayed silent. Cristiano scooched an inch closer.

"You're cute James." He muttered.

"You forgot the Doctor at the beginning."

"I called you James when I jacked off."

James didn't offer any response. Tried hiding the pink that had crept onto his cheeks. They never mentioned this at school either, but then again maybe they didn't expect you to come across a Cristiano.

Cristiano lifted his chin, James avoided his eyes.

He opened his mouth slightly, ready to say something, but nothing escaped.

"Yeah," Cristiano smiled, "you're cute." He patted James' cheek gently and jumped off, left like always without a goodbye.

~

He didn't mention this issue to either Marcelo or Isco. Nor Toni although he did contemplate it as he was giving his examination.

It wasn't anything major, he told himself while eating his oatmeal the next day. Really, like the guys said, Cris was a stupid guy trying to crack jokes or pull a seemingly naive guy into a big joke and make himself cool.

Well the one thing he didn't know was that James wasn't that naive and he wasn't going to think too much about it.

Whatever, he said mentally while spooning more oatmeal into his mouth.

His advancements would blow over after a while.

~

And he didn't seem too eager to bring it up when they saw one another the next time. At least not as eager as he was with the boner situation.

"How is your fragile body doing today?" James asked. Cristiano nodded.

He seemed to be watching for any sign of a mention from James, but James was not about to cross that boundary.

"Anything specific then that I should address?"

"I had a headache yesterday." He tried, James smiled, more pitifully than he intended.

"Though it's a fact that the brain is a muscle, I'm not that type of physio."

"I just took some Advil." Cristiano looked at him expectantly, James just laughed.

"And now?"

"It's gone."

He kept looking at him expectantly. James felt a pang in his stomach.

"Any other muscles I need to touc- I mean, check." He stuttered. Cristiano picked up on it right away and used it.

"There's some but I don't if you specialize in those with your job?" He smiled, James started warming up again.

"If you are unsure, the answer is probably no."

"Wanna double check just in ca-"

"Is there anything else you need, Cristiano?" He interrupted because it had started to turn in a direction he was not prepared to go on.

Cris looked startled. "Uh, no."

"I have other patients, then. If you don't mind." He motioned towards the door.

"Right." He nodded and left.

James felt another pang: guilt and something he wasn't prepared to name.

~

He skipped the next two sessions. James refrained from telling Marcelo and Isco once again.

"Are you feeling alright?" 

It was Toni this time. 

"Yeah I'm fine. Why, am I doing something wrong?"

"No. I mean, I wouldn't know if you were cause I'm not exactly educated in this, but you seem sadder. Or at least disappointed. Did Ronaldo do something?" He didn't talk much, but when he did he babbled. And he also revealed that he knew a lot more than expected.

"Why would you say that?"

"He's a pain in the ass a lot."

Ill-timed word choice. Not that James had it on his mind.

"You're right." He agreed because it was the easiest thing to do. "I'm trying to ignore it though."

"Maybe you should confront him instead?" And James made a mental note to tell Marcelo that Toni seemed like a better qualifier for God than he had ever been.

~

It was two days before the game. He hadn't come yet. James decided that he should track him down. Not that he desired it, no way, but because he had to have one before the game. Standard procedure and he was all about standards.

It wasn't hard to find him. 

"You should probably come tomorrow."

"Do you stalk me?" He asked. Completely ignored the request.

"Um, no?"

"Is that doubt I hear?" At least he wasn't mad.

"No. I don't stalk you."

"Really? I'd be flattered to be honest."

"I need you to come see me tomorrow."

Cristiano smirked. "You need me?"

"Yes. Why did you skip the last days?"

"I was deeply contemplating some of the recent decisions I've made."

James weighed the options he had: ask for elaboration or avoid it.

"And you have come to what conclusions?" He liked putting himself in difficult situations.

"I did regret them. Now I don't know." He smiled widely, James bit his lip to not match it.

"Come tomorrow."

"Say you need me."

He was going to rebut. Yell at him for pushing him into situations that he did not want to get into (yet), nor was he allowed to get in. But Cristiano had cocked his head slightly and smiled halfway in anticipation.

"I need you to come."

"7:00 sharp, cutie."

James pretended to not hear.

~

"Should I take all my clothes off or are we starting slowly?"

"Trying to refrain from nudity today."

Cris seemed disappointed, James pretended to ignore it.

"I'm assuming no pain noted?"

"Nothing but the usual ten ankles."

"Great." He wrote something down, walked over. "Pants up."

"Can't I just take them off?"

"Pants up I said. Show me your thighs."

He pouted but did it.

James pressed his fingers into the right one. Cristiano leaned against the table with his hands.

He moved onto the left one, Cristiano had gotten stiffer. He tried to ignore it, but Cris switched from hands on the table to his right one snaking around the back of James' neck, holding on tightly for balance.

James paused for a second. Took a subtle breath in, Cristiano moved a millimeter closer.

A millimeter but it felt like a foot to James. "Don't." He mumbled. Cristiano pretended to not hear. Or maybe he actually didn't hear because he wasn't sure his mouth had actually opened.

He moved an inch closer this time. James swore his measurements were correct, he contemplated them to keep his mind off of Cristiano getting even closer.

"Don't." He said this time, for sure, and pushed Cristiano off.

Cristiano frowned, pulled his pants over his thighs again.

"Is that all you'll be needing from me?"

"Yes."

He left. Without a goodbye. James didn't expect anything else.

~

They didn't speak before the game. James found himself wedged between the line of his personal life and professional life again.

Professional because patient doctor shit wasn't allowed. He knew that. They outlined that. It caused issues. It caused feelings. Feelings are bad. He wouldn't jeopardize his job here for that.

Personal because the closeness they had experienced the day before had proven that if he had any other profession he'd fuck it all and let Cristiano squeeze his neck as hard as he wanted and would allow him to move as close as he wanted, even if their noses were smashing together.

That's what he pondered over his oatmeal that morning. Not the ignoring part anymore because Toni's suggestion proved more useful than he had expected it to be.

He came to Madrid for his job, not for a fling.

~

It went well. Or it was going well. Cristiano scored one. Gareth scored one. Keylor protected the net as if his life depended on it (which in a way it did).

Until the 60th minute. Cristiano ran over to the sideline for a drink. Claimed his thigh muscle was pulled.

That's all James heard. That and a series of curses from Rafa and his call to the ref.

7 off. 20 on.

Cristiano descended down the steps. James continued to watch.

~

"He wants you down there." Rafa informed. James grabbed his bag obediently and ran down the steps. He didn't know what else he expected. He was the thigh guy.

Cristiano was ready in his office, pant leg pulled up, body splayed along the table.

"What happened?" He asked, placed his hand on his thigh.

"I'm not the doctor, Doctor." His voice was colder than usual.

James pushed into it, rubbed. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Get up."

He did.

"Stand up."

He did.

"Walk down there and back."

He did. No limp. He had his eyebrows raised when he returned.

"You lied about an injury and were forced to get subbed off. You know I have to write that down."

"Whatever helps you." Cristiano smiled sourly, James felt sour on the inside.

"Why did you lie?"

"I did my job."

He stared straight into James' eyes. He did that a lot. James hated it. Liked it only a little bit.

"Your job involves 90+ minutes of running."

"I've developed other occupations as well." James didn't comment.

Cristiano tested the situation they were in, took a step towards him. James took one back, his promise playing in his head. Job first. 

Cris took another forward. James took another back. 

And so it went until their noses were almost touching and James realized he hadn't been moving at all.

He could feel Cristiano's breath on his cheek. Could see the specks of gold in his eyes. Could hear his own uneven breath, felt the tension turn into a hand and grab him by the throat.

Cristiano smiled the tiniest bit, eyes lit up, hands quivering by his sides.

James bit his lip, Cristiano reached out and pulled it from between his teeth, kept his hand there; thumb on his chin, forefinger on his upper lip, rest of his fingers cupping his jaw.

Cris leaned in, James sucked in a breath. This was happening this was happening this was happening. He promised himself he wouldn't let it happen but Cristiano could be, mind you, extremely persuasive with his lips and James was very persuaded at that precise moment and really, what would one kiss do? Nothing, that's what. He wasn't going to get attached with one kiss, it wasn't scientifically proven. If he could just tr-

"We won!" Cristiano jumped back, James tripped over the table. Marcelo's smiling head was sticking through the door. "How's your foot?" He asked, Cristiano nodded furiously.

"Good, good. It's better thanks." Marcelo smiled again, popped back out.

James composed himself. Flattened his shirt out since he'd apparently had curled it into a ball at the front.

Cristiano fixed his hair, smirked at James one last time before heading towards the door.

"Put ice on that." James commented before he left.

"Get some ice for those cheeks too." Cristiano responded. 

He left with a wink which sort of counted as a bye.

~

"Is it allowed?"

"Is what allowed?"

"Patient-doctor intimate relationships."

James turned swiftly. "What did you say?"

"Intimate relationships. Between your patients and you."

"No."

"Wouldn't have guessed you as a rule breaker."

"I'm not a rule breaker." James grew angry. He'd had a day to sift through what had happened yesterday, and he'd looped back to what he started with. Job first. That he was having doubts yesterday was a temporary because he was "in the moment" as people would label it. No no, he was back to coherent, normal thoughts.

"Pretty sure you were breaking some type of rules yesterday; personal or formal."

James glared at him. "Nothing happened. He was being a dumbass like always." 

"So you totally were not not going to kiss."

"Exactly."

"Didn't know you were into guys either. Or him for that matter. I thought he ha-"

"I said no, Marcelo!"

"And I said were not not. Double negative. It means you were."

"Tricking me into that doesn't make it true."

"Well at least now we know you're not God, he just had a crush."

"I'd rather stay God." But his face was pink so Marcelo took it as a victory.

~

Cris came on time. He was already smiling, James didn't find anything humorous.

"We have to talk about what almost happened during the game yesterday." Cristiano sat down, listened attentively.

"Do we though?"

"Yeah. We do."

"Ok then. Let's talk."

"This isn't allowed. I read the rule book the other day."

"What isn't allowed? Me getting treatment from you?"

"No. The closeness thing."

"Oh." Cristiano made a little o with his lips. "That didn't turn into anything though."

"But it was about to."

"Was it?"

"Yeah?"

"So it means you wanted it to."

"That doesn't matter."

"Then why are we talking about it?"

James sighed. "I mean; I have a little bubble surrounding me and you can't pop it. It's not allowed."

"Is that you talking or the rule book?" Cristiano smiled widely. James refrained from doing the same.

"Me."

Cristiano shrugged and hopped off the table, walked over to where James was leaning.

"Is this too close?"

"Don't."

He inched closer. "This?"

"You're getting near the end."

Closer. "Is this?" They were ten inches from touching torsos.

"That's the edge." James mumbled, stared straight into Cristiano's eyes.

"That's an extremely small bubble." Cris' voice had lowered as well.

They stood quietly, Cristiano nudged James' finger lightly with his own. James didn't respond.

"What am I to you?" He asked quietly. James took a second to answer.

"Patient."

"After hours."

"Nothing." But his voice cracked.

Cristiano smirked. "I may want to change that."

"I've noticed."


	3. Chapter 3

Cristiano walked into their next meeting, completely silent.

James stared at him. Nothing. No smile no laugh no words planted on his mouth. He came in, sat down. Stripped his shoes off.

No pant touching either.

"Not eager today, huh?"

No response.

"Are you sick?"

Nothing.

James grabbed his clipboard, pushed his glasses up his nose. "Have you been taking your meds?"

Cristiano perked up. "What meds?"

James shrugged. "None. Just wanted to know what it would take to make you talk."

"I'm trying to be modest."

James smirked because modest and Cristiano were not synonyms.

"How?"

"Well, I've decided to start over. To get you on my side. Fresh starts, that's what the YouTube video was called."

"YouTube video?"

"I'm sorry," Cristiano stuck his hand out, "I don't think we've met before.  
My names Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro, but you can call me Cris. What about you sir?"

James sighed, grabbed his hand. "Dr. James Rodriguez Rubio but you can call me Dr. James Rodriguez Rubio."

"How about 'James'?"

"How about no."

"Well we have to start somewhere. Pants off or on?"

James smiled at him, Cristiano tried hiding his.

"No, we're alright for now."

"Whatever you need Mr. Dr. James Rodriguez Rubio."

"Right," he wrote something down, looked up again. "Any thigh ankle arm butt pain?"

"Nothing we can talk about openly." Now he smiled widely, James turned pink.

"You're dismissed then."

"Alright." He hopped off, grabbed his shoes. James turned back.

"Oh yeah. You're butts nice by the way."

James swung back. "I thought we were starting over as strangers?"

"We did. I now know your name and we're acquaintances."

"Acquaintances don't say those things."

"Mine do." He shrugged and disappeared. James didn't know why he loved it.

~

"So it's still totally nothing right? Because I'm totally not suspicious."

"Then why are you totally asking?" James asked Marcelo back, Marcelo laughed lightly.

"I find it humorous."

"Find what?"

"Cristiano having a crush."

"I refuse to be his crush." James motioned for him to lie down.

"Well," Marcelo spoke as he did, "you can't exactly give someone permission."

"Well don't talk about it."

He stayed silent.

"Did you kiss yet?" James stopped what he was doing and rolled his eyes.

"No."

"Will you soon?"

He took a moment to answer.

"I hope so."

~

"So you're playing hard to get." Isco nodded along proudly, smiling. "That's what I like. And Cristiano loves a challenge anyway."

"I'm not challenging him."

"The way you act is a personal decision."

"I'm aware."

"I wonder what'll make you break?"

James bit his lip. "Am I supposed to answer?"

"When it happens, yes."

"Should I start a blog?"

Isco brightened. "That wouldn't be that bad of an idea!"

"Not happening."

"At least a journal."

"I'll probably remember without writing it down."

Isco smirked and pat his cheek. "Cute."

~

"Cute?"

"Yeah. Cause Cristiano's all 'bad ass I don't care' persona and now he's trying so hard."

"No he's not, Toni."

"How would you know? I've known him for longer."

"Well I don't want him to be."

"Yes you do."

"Toni, I'm the Doctor."

"But I'm the unbiased opinion in this situation."

~

"No pants or are we still being professional?"

"Professional." James answered, Cris wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

"You know," he walked over to James' desk, sat on all his papers. James sighed. So much for being modest. "You look very professionally nice today."

"Elaborate?"

"Did you get a haircut?"

"No?"

"I knew it." He jumped off triumphantly, sat on the table instead. "Anyway I think I got something in my eye."

James was hesitant, but he got up. "You have a doctor for that."

"Why do you think I'm here?"

"I mean a different one."

"Well yeah but you've proven to be great with your hands so maybe you can pull it out."

James walked over, put his hands on either side of Cristiano's body.

"Which one?"

"Left." Cristiano's voice had lowered. James looked at it. No redness no sign of irritation.

He took his thumb and pulled Cristiano's eyelid up. Nothing. But Cristiano kept staring at him and his breath kept hitting James' neck. James took his hand away.

"I don't see anything." His voice had gotten lower as well.

"I swear there was something there."

James didn't respond, stayed in his spot inches away from Cristiano.

"James," he said.

"You forgot the Dr. Rodriguez Rubio."

"I'm pretty forgetful." Cristiano was whispering now, James swallowed loudly, eyes watered slightly. Cristiano leaned forward enough so that there noses were pressed together, eyes locked, James' glasses sliding down, hands gripped the table.

"Thanks anyways." He mumbled barely audible and hopped off the table, away from James who was still leaned over nobody now.

"I thought you-" but when he turned back Cristiano was already gone.

~

"He's a dick."

"Ironic word."

"Shut up. You know what I mean. He's a dick. We were there. It was going to happen."

"So you wanted it?"

"Why do you ask that every time?"

Marcelo smiled. "I want to hear you admit it. You want him."

James exhaled loudly. "Fine. Iwanthim."

"Technically it's not allowed."

"Thanks."

~

He didn't know if he should be angered or rude or just quiet when he saw him again. Cristiano dispersed all options when he came in. James decided he'd be interrogative.

"Why did you do that?" He asked. Cristiano smiled at him, came over.

"Well acquaintances can't do that. So I had to move us to friends."

"We're friends now?"

"Unless you don't wanna be?" Cris put his hand on James' neck, James stiffened.

"I thought you had a girlfriend." He tried to contain himself, but all he could focus on was the hand on his neck so his words came out shaky.

"The use of the past tense is vital in that sentence."

"And now what?"

"Single and ready to tingle." He gave a slight squeeze of his hand and pulled away.

James grabbed his hand midway, still stiff but fully functional.

Cristiano was caught off guard, he hadn't gone over this type of situation in his head. But here he was, James fingers clinging onto his.

James stood, feet planted firmly into the floor, his other hand in a tight fist. He waited to see if Cristiano would respond and when he didn't, he took two steps closer. Then another. And another till their torsos were plastered into one another. He didn't let go of Cristiano's hand, but with the other, grabbed his neck. In the same place Cris had. He leaned in, placed his nose right under Cris' ear, dragged it to the end of his chin slowly, felt Cristiano swallow.

"You know," he muttered, nose back under his ear. "I don't think we have an appointment today," his lips hovered above his jawline, contemplating whether he should or

"and I only take appointments so I think you should go." He pulled away, voice back to normal.

It was Cristiano's turn to stand still, eyes wide. "Um, yeah. Alright." And he turned around without another word.

~

"I'm proud." Isco cooed the next day. James was too.

"I almost suffocated."

"Well thats alright."

"Great."

He pressed his fingers into Isco's thigh. "You think I should've kissed his jaw? Just to make it more annoying?"

"Well first off," Isco said, hands propping himself up, "I didn't know you had it in you," he blew a bubble with the gum he was chewing. It wasn't allowed but James didn't feel like telling him, "so I'm glad you did it. Too bad you don't have any cameras in here cause I sure as hell would want to see his reaction. Second, no. You did well. He wants you to act first that's why he's teasing."

James looked up. "Me?"

"Oh yeah, so he can feel the satisfaction of winning."

"But he doesn't like losing."

"Of course."

~

"And I hate losing."

"Of course." Marcelo took a bite of sandwich, Cristiano stirred his drink.

"So now what?"

Marcelo shrugged, swallowed. "Now you have an opponent who knows your game plan, so you're sort of fucked."

"Great advice."

"Look man," he took another bite. Chewed. Swallowed. "Just kiss him. At this rate you'll be retired before either one of you make a move."

"He can't just jump into the picture all of a sudden. This was my plan."

"And you pissed him off so now he's in it too. Blame yourself, you invited him."

Cristiano stabbed his sandwich. He mumbled something under his breath and Marcelo laughed, mouth full this time.

"Listen, you're lucky he wants to put up with your ass."

He stabbed it again.

~

This time James swore to himself he'd not say anything. Not one word. He wanted to see what Cris would say, and there'd be no room for his stupid interruptions.

Cristiano came in slowly, eyed him up and down, face straight. James stiffened against his own will.

"My ankle hurts." He said.

"Lay down." He did, James walked over, pushed his glasses up higher so they wouldn't fall down.

He wrapped his fingers around it like always, felt Cristiano staring up at him. "I think there's slight strain."

"Can I play tomorrow?"

"Don't do anything and you can."

Cristiano ripped his own ankle away this time and pulled his shoes on, James leaned against the table.

Cris sat for a moment, legs swinging back and forth. He looked up at James finally, James smiled lightly.

He opened his mouth, waited and closed it again. James waited. He opened it again. "I-"

"Just go Cris." He slapped himself, he wasn't supposed to talk.

Cris stared at him for a few seconds, hopped off and walked over. Hand on James' neck like last time. "I hate losing." He muttered. James nodded along.

And Cristiano kissed him.

One, two, three, four, five seconds while James squeezed his eyes shut as hard as possible, tried to loosen up but he wasn't ready for it, he was hoping for a warning. His fingernails dug into his palms, Cristiano's fingernails dug into his neck. He pecked him one last time before running off.

James didn't have an opportunity to thank him, or, whatever.

~

"An ankle strain broke him." Toni shook his head in disbelief. "I cannot believe it."

James smiled, touched his lips unconsciously.

"Was it nice?"

"For the five seconds yeah."

"He made you wait that long for five seconds?"

"Pretty sure he wasn't aware it'd happen."

"Lame."

~

"Lame? What the fuck do you mean lame?"

"What I said. You gave him five seconds. Only five?" Marcelo rolled his eyes pitifully.

"Well it was the first time."

"He's probably pissed off and doesn't want anything to do with you."

Cristiano stopped what he was doing. "What?"

"You heard."

"Shut the fuck up yes he will."

"Yes he will be mad, my point exactly."

"Marcelo."

But Marcelo didn't feel like talking anymore.

~

He didn't have an opportunity to talk before the game. James wasn't in his office and Sergio was already screaming for him to get ready.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking."

"Well fucking stop and put your ugly shoes on."

He was there, on the bench when they came out on the pitch. He had the urge to tell Rafa he didn't feel good. Which wasn't a complete lie.

"Can I?" He whispered to Luka.

"Can I what?" And he realized he hadn't told him the first part.

But it was too late because the whistle blew and they were forced to start.

~

Rafa always wrote things in his little notepad and James had a message for him that day.

-Cristiano sucks-

Because he did. That game. Tripped over the ball like three times and kept missing all his shots. It must've been the ankle. James should've stopped him from playing.

Half time whistle came, James ran downstairs to his position. A few of the guys lined up to have something checked out.

He saw Cristiano from the corner of his eye, trying to push through the crowd. He heard his name yelled too but he had a job and he had to do it. Rafa was standing right there. Otherwise he would've responded right away.

~

He's mad. God damn it he was mad. Because Cris couldn't keep himself composed for more than five seconds.

Lame.

Marcelo was right. He gave up on yelling his name two minutes before the second half, lined up in the hallway instead.

"Stop tripping." Sergio warned but Cristiano had already tripped again.

~

His performance was slightly better the second half, James noted. But not perfect. Never perfect.

The game ended 3-0, no Ronaldo on the scoreboard. James started his mental list of questions to ask at their next visit.

He didn't plan on going to his office, but as he walked past someone pulled him in.

Cristiano's lips were on his before he could say anything. One two three five fifteen seconds and James kissed back as hard as he was, but at twenty five he had to pull away.

"What?" Cristiano asked, our of breath.

"I was suffocating."

"But a good suffocating right?"

"I don't think there's a good suffocation." James smiled lightly, Cristiano smiled back and crashed his lips back onto his. James pushed him off.

"Who are we racing?" James asked. Cristiano looked confused.

"I- I'm just trying to make up for the lame five seconds last time. Cause you were pissed off."

"No I wasn't?"

"Yeah you were."

"I wasn't."

"But Marcelo said -"

James put his hand over Cristiano's mouth. "I wasn't mad."

Cristiano nodded furiously, James took his hand away and Cris was on his lips again. But only for three seconds this time.

"Have we past the friend stage then?" James asked, hand on his neck, other one on his hip.

"Only if you want to Mr. Dr. James Rodriguez Rubio."

"I think you can call me James now."

~

James was a good person, or at least he considered himself one (and Cristiano supported it). He didn’t spit on the ground, didn’t throw his wrappers out his window, thanked the mailman for bringing the mail, while being fully aware that he had no other choice.

Cristiano on the other hand was the type of guy who spit on the ground and threw two wrappers out the window at once and complained to the mailman that he came too early.

But James picked up Cristiano's wrappers and Cristiano encouraged James to spit on the ground and they both got the mail after the mailman was long gone, so together they'd be ok.


End file.
